One, whom I took to be the leader, was masked.
He came furiously at me to ride me down, but I leaped aside
nimbly, and, evading him, rushed at the other, and scaring his
horse, so that he dropped his point, cut him across the shoulder,
before he could guard himself. He plunged away, cursing and
trying to hold in his horse, and I turned to meet the masked man.
'You villain!' he cried, riding at me again. This time he
manoeuvred his horse so skilfully that I was hard put to it to
prevent him knocking me down; while I could not with all my
efforts reach him to hurt him. 'Surrender, will you?' he cried,
'you bloodhound!'
I wounded him slightly in the knee for answer; before I could do
more his companion came back, and the two set upon me, slashing
at my head so furiously and towering above me with so great an
advantage that it was all I could do to guard it. I was soon
glad to fall back against the bank. In this sort of conflict my
rapier would have been of little use, but fortunately I had armed
myself before I left Paris with a cut-and-thrust sword for the
road; and though my mastery of the weapon was not on a par with
my rapier play, I was able to fend off their cuts, and by an
occasional prick keep the horses at a distance.
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